


Hold on for Me (Steve Rogers x Reader)

by Steggy



Series: Tumblr Prompts [21]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gunshot, Vague Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:49:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9813953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steggy/pseuds/Steggy
Summary: You loved him. He didn’t know. And then, on a mission, you go and do something stupid. But maybe it was for the best.





	1. Chapter 1

“Shit, there’s more of them then we thought.”

“Hey, watch your language.”

Steve turned his head to look back at you just long enough for you to catch the glare he shot at you. You couldn’t help the smug grin that captured your lips, patting him on the back, and mumbling an apology. It obviously wasn’t the time to be making jokes, being that you were on a mission and all. But you really couldn’t help making fun of your best friend. Especially when Steve just made it so easy.

“On my count,” Steve whispered, and even though you were right behind him, he was amplified over the comms, just in case you were to get separated. “Three.”

You tightened your grip on your ICER. Steve moved his shield to the magnets on the sleeve of his uniform. 

“Two.”

Steve looked back at you again. A soft smile crossed your face, forgetting, just for that split second, what you were there for. He nodded, and you broke out of it and nodded back. 

“One!”

* * *

 

You didn’t know when it happened. You didn’t remember when you lost sight of Steve. Or when you ended up in the basement of the base you were infiltrating, one of the last Hydra bases left after Zemo had uncovered more Russian information with the other Winter Soldiers scandal. 

But you did remember when a bullet found its way under your suit, lodging in your side, and the searing, blinding pain that came from it.

And the shot from your own gun that brought the bastard who shot you down before you collapsed.

All you could hear was your heartbeat pounding loudly in your ears, your ragged breath as you sat slumped against a wall, losing more and more blood by the minute. You were sure you were going to die here. 

You had your fair share of regrets. You pondered them as you made the weakest of attempts to press your hands against your side and try to stop the bleeding. 

Your eyelids were starting to close. Your body was starting to give up. You could feel yourself slipping under. You didn’t know if you were ready for it. But it was starting to feel like you didn’t have an option.

“(Y/N)?”

A cough was all you could muster in response, swimming, your mind foggy, everything a blur.

“Oh my god, (Y/N).” You felt hands cup your face, taking some of the effort from you to keep yourself upright. You took the saved energy and forced your eyes to open.

Steve kneeled in front of you, covered in dirt, in blood, concern etched into every inch of his face. You never saw him like this. You never wanted to. 

“Steve…” You croaked out, and soon after, another small fit of coughing. 

“Hey, hey, don’t strain,” Steve said quietly, one hand moving to lay of yours on the wound. “You’re going to be all right, okay? The extraction team is two minutes out. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

You swallowed, hard, and tried to sit up more against the wall, against Steve’s warnings. You hissed in pain as the movement angered the fiery pain in your side. “Steve, I have to…”

Steve’s attention was elsewhere for a moment. He was scanning the area around the two of you, looking for something to soak up the blood, to help more than your hands were.

“Steve.”

His icy blue eyes met yours, eyebrows furrowed. “If you’re about to make some sort of will, save your breath. You’re making it out of here whether you like it or not.” 

You could see the pain in his own eyes. A part of you couldn’t help but feel some sort of relief in seeing how this was hurting him, seeing you like this. Because it only fed the idea that he really did care.

A weak smile tugged at your lips. “You know....” You closed your eyes for a minute and took a deep breath, as big as one as you could manage, trying to find just enough strength. When you opened them again, Steve was closer, although part of his trousers were missing and the fabric was being pressed into your side. 

You groaned again, and when Steve apologized, you mumbled, “I made the biggest mistake of falling in love with my  _ best friend _ .”

Steve stopped. He caught your eyes again, and if you weren’t nearly gone from the blood loss, you could have sworn there was some color in his cheeks. “What?”

Were you really about to do this now? When you were dying on the floor, his hands pressed into your side, trying to keep you alive? 

Your head fell back against the wall, having no more strength to keep it upright by yourself. You winced, though the shock of it was nothing compared to the bullet still lodged in you. “You never give up. And even when I’m bleeding out in front of you, I can’t help but love you for it, even though I’ll die before you ever love me back.”

Steve was quiet for a moment. You could see it eating at him. He bit his lower lip, looked down at your side before he could meet your eyes again. You wished that you could read his mind. “You’re not going to die, (Y/N).”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Steve.”

You felt his hands over yours, pressing, making you hiss in pain again. “Press, (Y/N).” 

You didn’t want to, but you obliged. 

Then his hands were on your face again, and you couldn’t help but open your eyes to look at him. Maybe for the last time.

“You’re not going to die. You hear me?” Steve murmured, his voice breaking. You blinked for a second, unsure if you were really seeing what you were seeing in front of you. You watched as tears started to slice through the dirt and blood on his face, rolling down his cheeks.

“Steve, don’t…” You weakly leaned your cheek against one of his palms, desperate to enjoy what little time you had left with him.

“You’re not going to die,” He repeated, his voice still wavering, but stronger. You realized he was holding it in for you. Trying to be strong. For you. His forehead pressed to yours, and his eyes fluttered closed. “You have to hold on. They’ll be here. I promise. Hold on for me.”

“You… Don’t pity me, Steve,” You whispered, your own eyes flooding with tears. “You can let me die. I’m okay knowing you don’t. It’s okay.”

“(Y/N), no.” Steve sucked in a sharp breath, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “You’re not going to die. I—”

Your eyes fluttered closed, getting weaker by the second. You wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

Then you felt his lips on your cheek. Felt his mouth tickle your skin when he murmured against it. “I’m not pitying you. I do love you, (Y/N), I do. You have to hold on. I’ll prove to you I’m serious. You just have to hold on.  _ Please _ .”

It was the last thing you heard before you blacked out.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve can't stop worrying. Are you okay? Why won't they let him see you? Why were you in surgery for so long? Then, when he's distraught out of his mind, the last person he thought he'd see shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is! much requested! and much love <3

His head was in his hands. Every so often, a tear escaped and dripped through his fingers, soaking into his uniform, mixing with the dirt and mixing with the blood. If it weren’t for his inability to stop bouncing his knee, the feeling of the damp fabric sticking to his skin would be more annoying than he could focus on. 

Four hours in surgery. Four hours, and Steve still couldn’t see you. He couldn’t touch you. Couldn’t feel your heartbeat. The last time he did was four hours ago. It had been so faint, so fragile. And despite wanting to stick by your side the entire time, he had forced himself to accept that he couldn’t if he wanted to feel your heartbeat again. To feel it stronger. Alive. Kicking. 

Every fifteen minutes, Steve huffed out a sharp sigh and rubbed his palms against his pants, desperate to dry them off even when he knew they were only going to get soaked in tears soon enough. Then he would stand, walk to the receptionist. By this point, the nurse stationed there would shake her head at him the minute he stood up. 

Nothing yet. 

He didn’t want to accept that he couldn’t know what was going on with you. Were you still in surgery? Had everything gone okay? Were you awake? Were you waiting for him? 

Did you remember what you had said shortly before he almost lost you?

The emergency room was mostly empty, scarce, except for a few people here and there, mostly SHIELD agents. For that reason, when Steve heard the waiting room doors slam open, his head shot up from his hands where he met eyes with the person waltzing in.

“Is she okay?” Tony asked, immediately crossing the room to Steve the moment he spotted him. This was the first time that Steve had seen Tony in months since the incident. His heart pounded in his chest, apologies swirling with his panicky thoughts about what was going on with you. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could even sort through the mess in his head enough, Tony held up his hand and sat down beside him. “It can wait. (Y/N) is more important right now, and we both know that.” 

Steve managed the smallest, weakest smile. It was grim, but some of his stress was eased with knowing that he had a friend to lean on. Even if they’d been at odds for awhile. He took a deep breath, and his eyes moved to the floor as he attempted to force out an explanation through his coarse, broken voice from all the crying he’d done in the past four hours.

“I-I’m not entirely sure, really,” Steve started, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand before he glanced over at Tony. “One minute she was there, the next I… I found her bleeding out with a bullet in her side.” 

Tony’s hand fell on his shoulder and squeezed. Steve bit the inside of his lower lip, hoping to stop the new, fresh flow of tears that burned at the back of his eyes. It didn’t help.

* * *

 

Time passed. Tony left and came back with coffee for both of them. He sat with Steve, even despite the fact that they were supposed to be enemies right now. He sat there with him because of you. He was a friend to Steve, even when he hadn’t been, because he needed someone. Steve needed someone because if he lost you, Tony knew it would crush him. And even through it all, he still cared. He didn’t want Steve to be alone.

Steve’s hands shook as he brought the coffee cup to his lips and took the last sip. He was still alight with anxiety, waiting. Waiting, waiting. For six hours now. He just wanted to know. He had to know. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

He stood, ready to ask the receptionist again when she thought that they would get information about how you were doing. As he did, the doctor came through the restricted doors and met him where he had been sitting, and based on the paleness of his face, Steve’s heart stopped.

And it stopped again when the doctor told him that yours had stopped three times during surgery. 

Tony stood beside Steve. And when the doctor said that you were stable and that he could come back and see you now, Steve shot a glance at him. 

He smiled meekly and patted him on the back. “Go ahead. You should probably be there when she wakes up, pal.” 

Steve’s lips twitched in another ghost of a smile before he nodded and rushed back to your hospital room.

* * *

 

He didn’t remember falling asleep. But the minute that Steve felt your hand twitch in his, his eyes opened, breathing in sharply and sitting up from the slumped position he had fallen in beside your bed. 

“Steve?”

His eyes flooded with tears again but he blinked them back as best as he could as he leaned forward, giving your hand a light squeeze. “Hey.” 

You were extremely weak. Had lost a lot of blood. You could barely keep your eyes open, but you forced yourself to because the broken blonde boy from Brooklyn was at your bedside, holding your hand, looking like he had nearly worried himself to death over you. “How long was I..?”

Steve managed another tiny smile. This one was much more genuine, seeing that you were okay right before his eyes. He pushed his fingers through yours and moved to sit a bit closer to you. “You were in surgery for five hours, but they wouldn’t let me back here until after six.” He paused, daringly reaching out to brush his fingertips across your cheek. If you hadn’t lost so much blood, you were sure whatever was left would have rushed to your face. “Your heart stopped three times, (Y/N). I almost lost you.”

You could only give his hand a small squeeze in response, exhaustion still tugging at your sleeves. Steve understood. And he couldn’t help but take it as the slightest little sign that you had remembered what you both had said before you passed out. He left his hand where it was, now cupping your cheek.

His smile widened a bit before he murmured, hopeful, “You held on for me. Must mean you wanted to give me a chance to prove I meant what I said.”

Something stirred inside of you. You knew that your heart was weak right now, but you swore that it swelled. And not just because it had been shocked back into beating three times. You remembered sitting against that wall in the basement. The blood on the floor. The blood on his hands, the tears cutting through the grime on his face. You remembered when he said that he loved you, too, right before you succumbed to the darkness.

“Mm,” You whispered, carefully adjusting your head against the pillow. “Maybe I did.”

Steve’s quiet laugh gave you a little bit more strength. And a little more strength when he leaned closer, his face just inches from yours. “Do me a favor and never scare me like that again, okay?”

Your free hand, even despite the heart monitor clipped to your finger, moved to gently press to his chest, a tired smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I’ll try. Are you gonna prove you meant it or what?”

Steve’s smile evolved into a grin, his teeth just peeking out past his lips. And then those lips were softly pressed to yours, gentle, but loving, caring. Immediately, in that moment, you felt it. Felt the spark you thought you would never find. You had loved your best friend for years now. And here you were, in a hospital bed after almost dying, kissing him like you had always dreamed of. And the best part was that it was real. It was real. He did love you. 

Though the moment was cut short when there was a knock at the door. Steve sighed and pulled away reluctantly, and both of your heads turned towards the person walking in. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Tony said. 

And you had to blink a few times to process if  _ this _ was real. 

You opened your mouth to say something, shocked, confused, but just as he had done with Steve earlier, Tony held up his hand with a small smile. “Yeah, yeah, I know. We don’t have to talk about that right now.” He walked to your bed and sat on edge, opposite to Steve. “How ya feelin’, kiddo?”

You looked to your right, and with Steve still holding your hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it, smiling to himself. Then you looked towards Tony. 

No one had ever cared enough about you to be as concerned as the two of them were.

No one had loved you like Steve had in just that one kiss.

No one had loved you like a sister the way that Tony had, before you had sided with Steve.

No one cared about you the way these two men in front of you did, enough to set aside their differences for the time being just to make sure that you were okay.

Your eyes blurred with tears as you nodded as best you could, squeezed Steve’s hand again, and said, “I think I’m okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> harrass me on twitter @alyjevans
> 
> tumblr: poorcap/spangledcap


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